


Baby Fever

by bovaria



Series: Domestic!Dean AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Dad!Dean, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:31:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Domestic!Dean AU, this is how Dean and you live out the birth of your first child together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Fever

The first time you see Dean cry it’s because he’s holding the pregnancy test you handed to him. The results show positive and he gasps before breaking into elated sobs. You had talked about children, had said you wanted at least two whenever the time came, yet Dean never expected it to be this soon. It was a marvelous surprise for him and he found that suddenly his heart felt bigger, he figured it was to fit in even more love than he could think of.

Your belly began to grow, your cravings kicked in, and along with it came the morning sickness. You couldn’t stand the smell of eggs, and so Dean ceased to cook one of his favorite breakfast foods to help you in not feeling sick. He became a pancake expert, it that was the only thing you could stomach without throwing them out in the toilet an hour later.

Dean picked up guitar playing once again. There were some evenings that all you could do was sit still and let your husband serenade your growing tummy. He remembered old lullabies his own mom used to sing to him and his tender, deep voice filled the house as he sang to his baby. In turn, you’d stroke fingers through his hair until he’d tell you to stop. He was supposed to be singing, not falling asleep under your ministrations. You’d wrinkle your nose at him and he’d playfully stick his tongue out at you.

The first time the baby kicked, Dean was remodeling a Black Chevy Impala he had bought himself. He wanted to be a cool dad and God forbid he was caught driving a van as he took his child out on a stroll. You screeched his name as you felt the movement within you. Dean broke your favorite lamp trying to get to you just in time. He succeeded in doing so, and that was the second time you saw him cry. He didn’t move away from for more than an hour, trying to coax the kid to move. He was finally forced to pull away when your bladder demanded to go to the bathroom and you hastily pushed him off the couch in order to get to the toilet in time.

When your water broke, you were more than ready to get to the hospital. You had all your bags packed and waiting by the front door, the doctor had warned you that it was going to be around the end of the week and so you were excitedly expecting it. The pregnancy had become so uncomfortable for you and you were grumpy all the time due to the lack of comfort and sleep. So, you welcomed the beginning of your labor with opened arms.

Dean, on the other hand, was a whole other case. He screamed when he saw the liquid trickle down your thighs, frantically searching for the keys and tripping on some shoes you had forgotten to pick up by the stairs. After making sure he hadn’t gotten hurt, you urged him to calm down, which he did with great difficulty. But once he realized that you needed him to be relaxed, he collected himself and scooped up your bags in one arm before wrapping the other around your waist.

He helped you into the car and clambered into the driver’s seat. You could have sworn that a cop was going to stop you on the way to the hospital from how fast Dean was driving. Yet luck accompanied you and no police car was in view as Dean violated traffic laws and got you to there in no time. The birth was faster than you had heard from your friends’ experiences. Dean almost fainted, but the doctor held your baby girl up and congratulated your husband on his new daughter.

The third time Dean cried was while cutting his little girl’s umbilical cord, her cries piercing his ears. He usually found a baby’s crying annoying, it grated on his sanity. Yet hearing her peals only made him smile even wider. His heart was thundering in his rib cage and with great reluctance he stood aside so that the nurses could clean the baby up and wrap her in warm blankets.

You remained in the hospital for only three days, the baby was deemed healthy to go home, and Dean took more than half an hour to get to the house. Despite your insistence to drive faster, he shook his head. What if something happened to his wife and daughter? No, he had to take all precautions and follow the law to the very last detail.

You were quite irritated by him once you got home, but it was quickly replaced by tenderness as you saw him carry the baby carrier into the house, cooing at his baby girl. Dean hesitated in holding her. “I might break her,” he told you. “I’ve never done this.” You shook your head and reassured him that it was all about practice. He’d be a pro in no time.

You’d catch him staring at her while she was sleeping. His green eyes would be wide with wonder, his jaw slack. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe that she was real. His fingers would trace her tiny nose, skim across her cheek and gently poke her chin. Whenever she decided to open up her small hand, he’d place his pinky on her palm, biting his lower lip when she’d squeeze his finger and coo.

Before either of you two knew it, Dean had become an expert in changing diapers. He was even better than you. You’d feed the baby and half an hour later, peals of laughter would be heard coming from her nursery as he made her laugh while changing her diaper. You never knew how he managed to when she was so young.

The fourth time Dean ever cried was when it was time for the baby’s vaccines. You weren’t feeling particularly well and so you let Dean go into the room with your daughter in his arms. He emerged crying as she babbled up at you. On her little arm was a colorful bandage and you glanced at Dean in worry. “They hurt her,” he sniffled as fresh tears made their way down his cheeks. You smiled sympathetically and cupped his jaw, assuring him it was going to be alright.

You’d never thought that you would ever see Dean crying so often in his life. He was always stoic-faced and reluctance to show vulnerability. Yet the fifth time you saw him cry was when your daughter snuggled up to him while they watched T.V. and called him ‘dada.’ He gasped in surprise and she laughed, calling him once again. Calling your name frantically, you walked into the living room to witness Dean tearing up as the baby looked up to him in wonderment.

He held her close and kissed her cheeks incessantly that day. Your daughter seemed to sense that she made her dada feel great and continued to call him throughout the day. You couldn’t help but to feel jealous, only for her to turn to you and erupt into mischievous laughter. You squeezed her cheek and joined in on the laugh. The three of you fell asleep on the couch that evening, Dean’s arms wrapped around you both.


End file.
